Sunday 9 October 2022

Three albums. Slint, Polvo, Stern.


Math-rock is a genre that sounds more dangerous than it really is. Back when I knew nothing about it, I thought of metallic sheen and people in black drinking blood during live shows. It was when I heard Polvo for the first time that I realised what math-rock stood for: musicians playing their instruments in an elaborate manner, with mathematical accuracy. If that sounds dull, it should not. 

But I do really have little patience for what passes for math-rock these days. Once in a while, YouTube throws up high-quality videos of smug-looking people performing their songs with immaculate technical precision (Polyphia, anyone?). The problem with these bands is that they are awful. They cannot write songs. So however brilliant their skills are, they do not impress me.

These three albums do. To me, they represent some of the absolute best music in the math-rock genre. 


Slint. Spiderland (1991).


This album is legendary, which makes it all the more strange that it took me years to finally hear it. As a matter of fact, it took an interview with David Pajo and company in a recent issue of Uncut to make me put on a pair of large headphones and listen to Spiderland in all its cryptic, ecstatic, spoken word glory. 

It is an incredible experience that hits as hard as it probably did thirty years ago. Having spent a few years in the garage honing their technique (and releasing the not-quite-as-bad-as-they-tell-you Tweez in 1989), Slint put out their masterpiece in the year of grunge and Nevermind. However, there is little Nirvana about it beyond a couple of screaming sections in "Nosferatu Man". Mostly, it is a very intricate, well thought-through 40 minutes of slow-burning emotional intensity and ominous guitar arpeggios that sound both hypnotic and utterly beautiful. 

The album builds up and breaks down all over the place, and yet it never fails to impress. It may be a difficult listen, granted, but equally - nobody can deny the gorgeous guitar line in "Washer" or Pajo's unforgettable outburst at the end of "Good Morning, Captain". A timeless album. 


Polvo. In Prism (2009).


I sometimes think Polvo are the greatest band of all time. And then, when I forget that, it only takes me one minute of "Right The Relation" to put me right. 

Throughout their career, Polvo (have) released six albums and a few EPs of such mind-blowing math-rock brilliance that picking In Prism as their best may seem like a choice completely arbitrary - if not, in fact, nonsensical. But I stand by it. Because however much I love Celebrate The New Dark Age and Exploded Drawing, it was the absolute fucking insanity of "Beggar's Bowl" that got me here. Listen to those wild time signatures right now, listen to every little trick those guitars are doing - and you will never be the same. Truly there is no better introduction to math-rock than this. 

Besides the unimpeachable instrumentation, they are also great songwriters. The mystical, protean "Lucia" (which does indeed start a little like "Achilles Last Stand") goes from gorgeous balladry to high-intensity rocker with effortless skill, and the closing epic "A Link In The Chain" is just as good. This underappreciated masterwork is due wider recognition - along with the rest of Polvo's back catalogue.  


Marnie Stern. The Chronicles of Marnia (2013).


If there was a way I could describe my 2013 to anyone, I would just ask them to play The Chronicles of Marnia in its entirety. From the wild and whimsical chant of Marnie Stern at the start of "Year Of The Glad" and all way to the euphoric fade-out at the end of "Hell Yes". 

Okay, for those who do not know. Marnie Stern is a singer-songwriter from New York whose guitar-playing is so good you will want to see her live just to prove that this is, indeed, possible. The one criticism you could sometimes see levelled at her was that her songwriting did not always catch up with her mercurial skills as a guitarist. Well, if there even was such a thing, you could not really raise that complaint in the face of tunes such as "Noonan", "Proof Of Life" and especially "Nothing Is Easy". This math-rock comes with style and with charm, I still cannot believe she has not released anything since.

On her guitar, Marnie shreds and swirls and tears, but Jesus Christ that "Nothing Is Easy" song is good. I could probably write a book about it and still not express the full extent of my admiration for everything that is happening there. The way it playfully goes from one jaw-dropping hook to another (vocal, melodic, instrumental, lyrical, whatever) is like a children's kaleidoscope gone mad.  

In fact, I will post it here so that more people will marvel at this classic. That, and the immortal line "You don't need a sledgehammer to walk in my shoes"